


Ocean Boy

by emmacarena



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, Gay, M/M, Ryden, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmacarena/pseuds/emmacarena
Summary: Brendon discovers a crying boy on the shore, he decides to help him even if the boy seems a bit strange to him. « Never let someone who's hurt down, I can't help you if you don't help me too... »





	1. The Boy

Brendon hops off of the bus, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. His grandparents greet him with big smiles on their wrinkly faces.  
« How was the trip ? » « Did you get some sleep ? » « Are you hungry ? ». Brendon grins faintly and follows them inside the house. 

He puts his bag in his room and then goes to help his grandmother make dinner.  
They prepare a salad with some meat to go with it, Brendon is a good cook, that’s what his grandmother told him, so he believes it. Even if he just made the sauce. Still.  
They all eat silently while watching the tv set to maximum volume. Brendon finishes his dish and asks if he can leave the table, which his grandfather agrees with.  
He smiles and goes to put his plate in the dishwasher. 

He can now do what he had been envying to do since the beginning of this summer : go on a walk to the beach.  
He puts his flip flops on and leaves the house, whistling happily. 

He soon meets the sandy soil, he takes off his shoes and begins to run in the sand, opening his arms to let the wind rush into his shirt, making it inflate and rise to his navel. He laughs happily and breaths freely, feeling like a dove flying away to liberty. He then stops, out of breath. He sits down and picks up some seashells, thinking about making a necklace with them when h gets back home later. 

He stands up again, stuffing the seashells in his jeans pockets and begins to walk. Passing a deck, and another, both built on some big black and sharp boulders, where the foam accumulates at the high tide. 

However, the second deck is rather different than the first one. Brendon stops and listens. Seagulls, waves, wind, …cries ? Someone is sobbing somewhere, close to him but not close enough for him to see the person.  
He cranes his neck to the right, to the left. He decides to go at the end of the deck, the wood cracking under his bare feet. The sobbing is still here, but it anormally blends well with the sound of the waves, like it belongs with it. The boy bites his lower lip and sits down, his legs tangling over the ocean.  
The crying seems louder from here. Brendon leans over the deck to peek at the rocks situated just under the deck. 

That’s when he sees him, the person, the boy, whimpering and shaking. He’s curled on himself, wet from head to toe, naked. Some algaes sticks to his frail body while the waves crashes against him, again and again, emplifying his desperate cries.  
Brendon doesn’t hesitate and gets down on the nearest muddy rock, trying not to slip and fall in the water.  
He descends until he’s at the boy’s level. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge Brendon’s presence, just keeps crying loudly. 

« Hello ? » asks Brendon.

The boy suddenly opens his eyes so big Brendon thinks they’re going to pop out of their sockets, he whimpers and cralls away from Brendon.

« Don’t be scared ! Please ! » pleads Brendon, putting his hands in front of him. 

The boy breathes with difficulty but stops to move.  
That’s when Brendon notices the boy’s beat up face, a large bruise is decorating his jaw and another his left eye. There’s also blood dripping down his legs and head.

« Let me help you, » says Brendon in a soft voice, loud enough so the boy could hear him over the crashing waves.

Tears keep falling down on his round face but the boy still finds enough strenght to nod. 

« Good, » puffs Brendon « I’m gonna have to carry you, okay ? »

The boy stares at the strange teenager in front of him and doesn’t react.

« Do you speak English ? » asks Brendon.

The boy shrugs and nods timidly.

« I’m going to touch you, okay ? » articulates Brendon.

He nods.

Brendon moves forward, which makes the injured boy back away instantly.

« No please ! » cries Brendon « I have to touch you, » he explains, demonstrating it by touching his arm with one of his hand multiple times « Understand ? Touch ! »

The boy nods. 

Brendon walks toward him and this time, the boy doesn’t move an inch.  
Brendon smiles and reaches his hand out for the boy to take. The boy spits like an angry cat and backs away some more. Brendon sighs and sits down, he’s cold and tired. He just wants to go home and hide under his blankets. That’s what he tells the boy.

« I don’t know if you understand me but I just want to help you, that’s what my mom always learned me, never let someone who's hurt down…I can’t help you if you don’t help me too. »  
Brendon whipes a tear away, frustrated by the hurt boy in front of him. 

The boy’s eyes softened at the sight, he then extends his legs on the wet floor, screeching in pain.  
Brendon raises his head from where he had lay it on his knees, he grins and gently puts his free hand on the boy’s thin ankle. The gesture makes him flinch but he stays still. The two boys stare at each others’ eyes, trying to communicate with the sight rather than the voice. 

The boy understands now. He nods and lets Brendon scoop closer to him. Brendon smiles and tucks a strand of the boy’s hair behind his hear, he doesn’t flinch that time. A warm feeling invades Brendon’s stomach, he ignores it and puts his right arm behind the boy’s knees while his left arm goes behind his back.  
He lifts the boy who's light as a feather, he automatically wraps him arms around Brendon’s neck, and his head goes under his chin. The feeling of safety engulf the injured boy, he exhales loudly and closes his eyes, falling alseep in the stranger’s arms that feel safer than his own home.


	2. The Name

He feels his brain waking up, his body tries to follow but it hurts too much. He opens his eyes and scans the place he is in. He doesn't know anything he's surrounded with, he feels trapped and his breathing quickens.

He's laying on something soft and squishy, it also smells nice but he can't name the thing.

He looks up and that's when he meets the other boy's stare. He gasps and tries to stand up, falling directly on the floor due to the pain. He clenches his teeth and watches the boy walking over him quickly. He spits in his direction and crawls away, knocking out the bright thing that illuminated the room. It shatters on the floor and in the hurry, he cuts his hand on it. The dark liquid begins to come out of his finger, like it did on his legs earlier.

« I'm not going to hurt you ! » exclaims Brendon. He crouches down on the floor in front of the injured boy and takes his hand before he could swatch it away.

The boy struggles, trying to break free of Brendon's grasp but he's stronger than him. Tears start to swell in his eyes and he's now whimpering, afraid of the boy in front of him. The feeling of safety he had felt earlier having totally disappeared.

« Please, don't cry... » shushes Brendon, approaching the crying boy some more « Don't be afraid of me. »

The boy cries louder and louder, Brendon decides to use the force, scared that the cries will be waking up his sleeping grandparents. He takes the boy's arms and pull him against his chest, holding him like his life depended on it.  
The boy tries to break free but he's too weak. Brendon rocks their bodies back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in the boy's ears. The stiff body of the boy relaxes in Brendon's embrace, he soon feels him snuggle against his chest, sniffling faintly and the tears stop.  
They stay like this, on the floor, for at least twenty minutes. Brendon even wonders if the boy fell back asleep, but his eyes are still open and full of life.

« I would never hurt you... » whispers Brendon, setting his cheek against the salt-haired boy.

The boy raises his head and stares at Brendon's face, then at his bloody finger.

Brendon helps him stand up and sit down on the unmade bed, leaving the room to come back with some disinfectant and bandages. He sits down in front of the boy, he goes to take his hand but the boy raises it in front of his eyes, examining it. He cocks his head on the side, letting the blood run down his finger. He licks some of it but he quickly stops, not liking the unknown sour taste of it.

He then looks at Brendon, staring at his features. He decides he likes his luscious lips, they made him think of his mom. She used to put a red mixture on them, made them look fuller and pretty.  
The boy cups Brendon's jaw and puts his bloody finger on his pouty lips. Brendon doesn't move, too weirded out to do anything against it. The boy applies the red liquid, trying not to exceed on the skin. Perfect.  
He lowers his hand and looks at his thorough work. A small smile plays on his mouth while Brendon tries to understand what just happened, his face still held by the boy's tiny hand.

The boy breathes deeply, with still some difficulty, and approaches his face from Brendon's. Brendon doesn't move but his eyes automatically flutter shut. But the reality strikes him, he quickly pulls away from the boy's grip and takes a tissue, wiping his mouth with it and then wrapping it up around the boy's finger, pressing down to stop the bleeding.

« Bleeding is not good for you. For anyone » explains Brendon with a sigh.

The boy nods.

After a few minutes, the wound stops bleeding and Brendon puts a bandage on it. He looks at the clock : 11pm. Then at the boy who is looking at him with big golden eyes, breathing heavily still but not exhausted at all.

« You should get some rest, can you lay down ? » asks Brendon.

The boy cocks his head on the side.

« Sleep ? » says Brendon, putting his two joined hands on the side of his face, miming.

The boy now understands and tries to lay down but his body is still really sore and a flash of pain decorates his angelic face. Brendon hastens to help him, supporting his back and legs. He tucks him under the cover and puts a pillow behind his back so he can sit down.

« I'm gonna get you something for the pain » and he does so, handing the boy a glass of water with a soluble pill in it.

The boy drinks it hastily but then realizes it isn't just water. He spits some on the blanket and coughs.

« Yeah, I know... » laughs Brendon, rubbing his back.

He puts the glass on the nightstand and asks if the boy is hungry.

« F-fish... » whispers the boy.

Brendon's eyes widened. Did he actually talk ? Did he imagine it ?

« S-sorry ? » stutters Brendon.

The boy squirms and repeats a little bit louder, with a weird accent but it still means something !

Brendon smiles really wide and laughs. Making the boy's brows furrow. Why was he laughing ? Was he crazy ?

« You...you want fish ? » asks Brendon. The boy nods shily with a shallow breath.

« O-okay, I'll get you some ! » he giggles.

Brendon runs down the stairs and opens the fridge, getting out a trout that his grandfather fished a few days ago. His grandma planned to serve it for dinner the next day but Brendon will find a lie to tell. She had put a bunch of herbs in it, as well as some homemade sauce.

He puts it in the microwave for a few secondes and then brings it to the boy on a tray. He holds it in front of the boy while he examines it with a frown. He crouches down to sniff it and screeches, refusing to eat this weird smelling thing.

« What ? What's wrong ? » asks a perplexed Brendon.

« Fish, » says the boy.

Brendon sighs and runs his hand trought his hair.

« That is fish, »

The boy shakes his head 'no'.

« Please, don't be difficult. I took care of you, patched you up and let you sleep in a comfy bed ! That is fish ! » he repeats, frustrated.

The boy shakes his head again, looking at his hands.

« You need to eat ! » Brendon is getting impatient.

The boy raises his head and stares at Brendon with a puzzled look.

« Okay, I'll play at your little game »

Brendon doesn't know what was happening to him, he wants to take care of this boy, he wants to see him smile again. But he's really annoyed right now and he can't believe the shy boy who owes him his life is acting like a diva !

He goes down in the kitchen again and grabs another, but this time raw, fish from the fridge. He throws it in a plate which he throws in front of the boy, making him jump in surprise.

The boy's eyes widened and he rushes to the food, planting his teeth in the slippery flesh.

Brendon watches him, distraught, his mouth hanging open.

In no time, there's no trace of the poor fish. He devoured it, letting only the bones behind.

The room smells like death and salt, which makes Brendon want to throw up. He swallows his own saliva and takes the plate back, putting it next to the empty glass.

« Water » whimpers Ryan, lying down, licking his lips.

Brendon nods and fills the glass with water in the bathroom next to the bedroom they're in. He hands it silently to the boy who gulps it down in one go. He whipes his mouth with his arm and lays down, rubbing his eyes with his hands like a tired child.

« You're tired ? Sleep ? » asks Brendon.

The boy nods.

« Okay, I'll be in the room in front of this one. Call me if you need anything, yeah ? My name is Brendon by the way » he smiles.

« B-Br-Brendon ? » says the boy, concentrating.

Brendon nods, proud of the foreign boy.

« Goodnight, » mutters Brendon.

He opens the door to go to his room but the boy cries out.

« Stay ! » he calls with his hands extend in Brendon's direction « Stay ! » he repeats.

« I have to sleep too... » he says.

The boy pouts and his eyes fill up with fresh tears, he knows he's using his magical charm but he really doesn't want to be left alone in this foreing place.

It works on Brendon, he closes the door again and sits on the bed next to the boy, tucking him in again.

Brendon gets up to go sit in the armchair next to the bed but the boy catches his wrist.

« Lay » he orders.

Once again, Brendon yields.

He takes off his jeans but keeps his shirt on and stays on top of the covers.

The room is now dark, filled with the boy's difficult breathing. Brendon puts his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling while the boy turns around and snuggles againt his warmth body.  
Brendon smiles and reaches the boy's shoulders with his left arm. Which allows the boy to put his head on Brendon's torso.  
The boy smiles but Brendon can't see it in the dark, but he can feel his lips quirck up against his skin. He sighs and plays with the boy's hair, waiting for the sleep to take them away.

When he feels the boy's body becoming more and more limp in his arms, he asks one more thing.

« What is your name ? »

Silence. Deep breath.

« Ryan. »


End file.
